


forged in ice

by shineonloki



Series: 100 Lifetimes Challenge [5]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blacksmith Thor, Class Differences, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Lord Loki, M/M, Not with Thor and Loki, Part 1, Quest, Size Difference, Spit As Lube, Younger Loki, mentions of attempted non-con, older thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 13:39:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineonloki/pseuds/shineonloki
Summary: The wind was brisk for the south, a sharp bite at his neck and cheeks that he was unused to. The ground was damp and soggy, and his boots sunk into the Earth as he trudged up the hill.As annoying as that was, nothing was more irritating than the young boy who rode a black horse several feet in front of him.





	forged in ice

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is a continuation of one of my 100 lifetimes, [dagger](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16071125/chapters/39146701). it's not necessary for you to read it first, but it's pretty short, so it wouldn't hurt! there will eventually be a part 2.
> 
> please head the tags, and if you enjoyed, please leave feedback! thank you!! :)
> 
> currently editing!

The wind was brisk for the south, a sharp bite at his neck and cheeks that he was unused to. The ground was damp and soggy, and his boots sunk into the Earth as he trudged up the hill.

As annoying as that was, nothing was more irritating than the young boy who rode a black horse several feet in front of him.

They had been traveling together for two nights, and Thor wondered if it was too late to return the satchel of coin tied to his hip and turn back.

Loki had loitered around his forgery while he finished the dagger. It was a tiny thing, didn’t take him long to make, and perfect for those small, deft hands of his. Thor had even worked the symbol of House Laufeyson into it with a snake winding its way up the handle, coiled to create grooves for a solid grip.

Not that Loki appreciated it in the slightest. He thanked Thor, admiring the craftsmanship, testing the weight of it in his hand, before sliding it back into its sheath and immediately, without breath, asked Thor to occupancy him on his quest to kill the Mad Queen.

Thor had declined, of course. But, the promise of handsome payment and a contract stating he would here-on-out provide weaponry and armor for the Northern armies sealed the deal.

He was a humble man, but he liked his home and liked the food in his belly.

Distracted by thought, he stumbled on a rock as he climbed the steep incline of the hill; stumbled but didn’t fall.

Loki turned to cut him a sharp glare, green eyes gleaming in the afternoon sun. The horse trotted easily on the terrain, Loki’s boots were clean of mud, shiny and leather. He had no room to judge.

“Keep up, old man.”

Thor groaned her his breath, and as Loki turned his head, he could make out the edges of a smirk.

His hand found the money bag, he patted it, reminding himself why he wasn’t shoving the brat off his steed.

In the end, it wouldn’t matter. He would escort Loki Laufeyson to the capital, the Queen would have him executed, pretty head on a pike.

\--

“Have you ever used a dagger?” Thor asked him, and before Loki could answer, “For more than to pick your teeth?”

Loki scowled at him on the other side of the fire. The orange flames made him glow in the dark, warm tones dancing over his face, casting shadows to make him look older than he was.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever taken a life?”

A silence befell them.

Thor could see the answer in his eyes, wide and scared. If he had to guess, the fear wasn’t from the thought of killing, but rather Thor finding out he hadn’t done so.

Loki took a careful bite of his hare— that Thor had hunted and prepared— and swallowed slowly, buying time.

“No, but I will do what I must.”

Thor laughed and tore off a ruthless chunk of meat with his teeth.

“What about you?” The question held more contempt than curiosity.

“Aye.”

Thor had been nearly a child, as old as Loki, when the last war between the realms took place. He fought for the South, wielding a hammer for means other than straightening out pieces of metal. Many men died by his will, his hands were stained more with blood than soot.

“What did it feel like?” Loki asked, voice small.

“Empty.”

\--

“Do you know why I’m killing Queen Amora?”

Thor walked quietly beside the horse. His legs ached, but the flat plains were better than hiking up the mountainside.

“She is treacherous and cruel?”

From his station on his horse, Loki looked down at Thor. Amusement twinkled in his eye, though Thor wasn’t sure why. There was nothing amusing about the Mad Queen’s reign. She had overthrown the proper King of Asgard, Odin, slaughtering the royal family— save the babe who was smuggled from the Capital. She sat on the Gold Throne and called herself a Queen when she was nothing more than a witch.

“That is true, but no. Those are not my reasons,” Loki said.

Thor raised a brow, curious. It was good enough reason for him to accompany the Northern Prince; perhaps there was an old vendetta or betrayal.

“Queen Amora aims to conquer the North, tame it and strip Jotunheim of its kingdom.”

Thor gave an incredulous bark of laughter.

“Really? Your plan isn’t a noble one! It’s one of self-enrichment!”

Loki’s brow furrowed, he let out an undignified snort and turned his head back to the road ahead.

“What does a bastard know of nobility?”

Thor’s face darkened, and he shut his mouth. He had no trust in himself not to say something that would anger Loki, something he typically liked to do when the mood was teasing. However, reminders of his lowly status weren’t something that sat easily.

Loki spared him an apologetic glance but didn’t say sorry.

\--

As the sun set along the horizon, Loki made his way back to camp toweling at his wet hair. He had absolutely refused to let Thor accompany him to the river to wash up, and now it would be too dark for Thor to risk dipping into the water.

“Enjoy your bath?”

Loki shook his head like a wet, shaggy dog, flinging water against Thor’s face. Thor wiped it from his cheek indignantly.

“Yes. Perhaps one day you will take one.”

Loki settled in front of the fire, sitting close enough to dry himself, and holding out his hands to warm them. Thor tried not to let his eye twitch in irritation.

“I could have taken one tonight had you not been so ashamed of what’s between your legs.”

Loki’s face turned a brighter shade of red than the flames, he sat back on his haunches and stared Thor down. He looked as if he could kill him on the spot and not blink an eye.

“I am not ashamed!”

Teasing Loki, riling him up, was fun. Thor sorely missed having entertainment, and this was so easy to do. The young Laufeyson had an obvious chip on his shoulder, and Thor needed only to blow.

“They say its so cold in the North, men’s cocks retreat into their body.”

Loki’s mouth hung open, he sputtered for a retort and found none.

“They say you can’t tell a man from a woman when you spread their legs.”

“That’s not true—”

“Explains why you wouldn’t let me join you,” Thor said, effectively cutting him off.

In a furious flurry, Loki stood, lifting his tunic and fumbling with his leather belt. Under his breath, he mumbled something that Thor assumed was insulting, but his mind could only focus on Loki’s hand opening his breeches and shoving them down to his bony knees.

“Does this look like a cunt to you?” Loki spat.

It most certainly did not. Thor adverted his gaze from the soft cock between Loki’s legs, hanging beneath a patch of hair darker than that on his head. He heard Loki give a satisfied snort, as well as the sound of his leather breeches being pulled back up.

“There, did that satisfy you?”

“Yes,” Thor lied.

He wasn’t satisfied, not at all.

\--

As they treaded farther South, towards the coastline and capital, the air grew warmer. Loki had to shed his furs, and underlayers, riding only in a thin tunic. Thor himself had never traveled North, but he had been to enough taverns to hear tales of winter.

The heat did nothing for Loki’s attitude and soon he was acting like a cranky, petulant child. It was easy to forget sometimes that he was exactly that.

In front of him, Loki pulled the reins of his horse, drawing him to a halt with a neigh. In the distance, Thor could hear moving water, which meant they could refill their canteens and march forward.

“Let us set camp here for the night.”

Loki swung a leg over his horse, dismounting himself.

“No, we will restock with water and keep on.”

Loki ignored him and began to unpack the load strapped to his horse. Thor wiped a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead and watched Loki stubbornly work to pull out the plush furs to serve as bedding.

“The sun is still high in the sky,” Thor told him. “We don’t need to waste daylight.”

Loki stopped, looking over his shoulder, eyeing him for a quick moment before deciding Thor wasn’t worth his time.

“I said—”

“I heard you,” Loki cut him off, and in two quick seconds, Thor was in his space, pulling the furs from his hands and shoving them back into the satchels.

“Stop!” Loki growled, grabbing hold of the soft brown throw Thor grappled with, tugging it with all his strength. Thor let go and let Loki tumble backward, stumbling and falling flat on the ground.

The look he gave Thor was murderous.

“How dare you!”

Thor gave him a nasty grin.

“I am a Prince!” Loki shrieked, pulling himself up and dusting off the dirt from his breeches.

“No,” Thor said slowly. “You really are not.”

Loki froze in his tracks, turning to Thor with his face drenched in confusion. In his heart, Thor almost felt bad— the kid looked broken. He could see his mind whirling, puzzling together the words Thor had said.

“Amora can’t take the title away, because you never had it. There is only one ruler of the land and they sit on the Gold Throne in Asgard.”

“What?” Loki ground out from between teeth clenched tight.

It was better to let him know the truth—maybe he would cease this fruitless mission that would only result in his death.

Clear all the illusions.

“You will never be King.”

It was only the surprise of the attack that knocked Thor to the ground, not the physical strength of Loki himself. He landed hard on the ground beneath him, rocks jabbing to his back as Loki settled into weight across his chest, straddling him with knees on either side. His fists were unrelenting, pounding into his jaw, his chest, his shoulder. There was no craftsmanship in his hooks, just seething anger and rage as his eyes watered with tears. Thor was unphased, he had been struck with much harder blows. The forge itself dealt more damage.

It was the wounded look on Loki’s face that hurt most.

Thor had a busted lip and bruised eye before Loki finally tired himself out. When he did, he slumped defeated against his chest, breathing harsh and in tandem with Thor.

\--

There was a field in their path, the crop cleared and already harvested. They hadn’t talked to each other in days. If Thor tried to speak, Loki ignored him, resigned to his own mind. It was funny how the pensive silence made him look older.

Thor sat up their nightly camp in the field, started a fire and settled into his furs far from where Loki lay staring up at the cloudless night sky.

He had almost drifted off when he felt a warm body by his side. Cracking one eye open, he saw Loki crouched beside him, face lit with only the dim flicker of the dying fire.

“I am going to take Asgard. I will be King.”

Thor closed his eyes, licked his lips, pictured Loki on the Gold Throne.

“Whatever you say, your Highness.”

\--

If Thor had to guess, there was about a month out of the Capital; which meant there was not enough time was to convince Loki his idea was ludicrous— if that endeavor was even possible.

Closer to Asgard meant closer to civilization. They had spent most of their trip in solitude, with only the company of each other. So, Thor wasn’t surprised when Loki pulled back the reigns of his horse and demanded they take occupancy at a shabby looking inn.

“A bed,” Loki lamented.

“And mead.”

Loki rolled his eyes and adjusted the pin on his collar, the twisted snake of House Laufeyson. It was amazing how he could remain so fresh and clean while wallowing in the mud and dirt and traveling day and night. Thor could imagine how he looked in comparison.

“You should take that off,” Thor told him.

Loki fingered at the pin. “This? Why? It shows my status.”

Thor looked over his shoulder at the inn, poorly built and already wreaking of sour mead and livestock. There was a man passed out in a puddle of his own sick by the door. He honestly couldn’t believe Loki would step foot in the establishment.

“This isn’t a place you want your status to be known.”

Loki frowned down at his chest, where the emblem was perched perfectly in place. Thor reached out to unfasten it, and stuck it in his pocket, with only a small protest from Loki.

\--

“He’s a pretty little thing, ain’t he?”

Thor looked up from his mug long enough to who the drunkard was referring to. It shouldn’t have surprised him to see Loki talking animatedly to a group of burly men, none of which were listening to a thing he said.

Which was a shame; Loki weaved some beautiful stories.

Thor didn’t respond, only grunted into the lip of his cup and took another swig. It went down like it tasted— like shit.

He watched Loki, small in the group of men three times his size, almost dainty. Even though the emblem of his House sat heavy in Thor’s pocket, Loki still looked like wealth personified. Smooth, porcelain skin, fine clothes, a facial structure that only came from good breeding.

“Wonder if he fucks like a girl,” the old man beside him mused. “Assumin’ those men over there are about to find out.”

He let out a scream of pain when Thor slammed his tankard onto his brittle, old fingers with all the strength he could muster— which unfortunately for the old man, was a lot. Every head in the tavern turned, including Loki.

“You’re coming with me,” Thor growled low under his breath. One of the larger of the men stepped forward, trying to weasel his way in between Thor and Loki. A poor choice in judgment, because Thor wasted no time in unmounting his hammer from his belt.

“Thor,” Loki warned. He leveled him with a glare, it said: _Not here. Not now._

They were on an assassination mention, perhaps Loki was right in not wanting to draw that much attention to themselves with violence. It was too bad he’d already mangled a man’s hand.

“Gentlemen,” Loki said to the men who were anything but. “It seems my companion needs me elsewhere.”

He slipped his arm around Thor’s, linking them together, and pulled him towards the sleeping quarters. Loki wore a polite smile, but Thor could tell by the grip of his fingers in the meat of his arms that he was furious.

\--

“Do you know what they would have done to you?”

Loki blanched but regained his composure quickly. The dagger was still held tightly in his palm, but Thor didn’t care. He knew Loki wouldn’t turn it on him.

“I can take care of myself!”

Thor knew that wasn’t true, and knew Loki was aware of the same. Those men were twice Laufeyson’s size, on par with Thor. They were muscled brutes, mean and nasty, and they were eyeing Loki like a sweet summer peach— ripe, juicy, dripping, waiting to sink their teeth in.

“They would have taken turns splitting you open. Men like that— they take what they want,” Thor said, eyes roaming over Loki’s body. He was small, lean, youthful in his face, despite his sharp tongue. He was delicate and pretty, easily broken.

“Men like that?” Loki asked, with an arched brow. There was something accusatory in his tone like he lumped Thor into the same category as those beasts in the tavern.

“Yes,” Thor hissed through his teeth. “Men who would fuck into you without any thought to your comfort. They would make you bounce on their laps until they were satisfied—they wouldn’t care to bring you pleasure in the matter. That little cock would go neglected.”

Loki sucked in a breath, eyes narrowing at the jab about his size, but ignoring it.

“You aren’t like that?”

“No,” Thor said, hesitating. He wasn’t.

“So, what? You would open me up on your fingers first?”

Loki reached out before Thor could pull away, bringing Thor’s hand to his face. It looked so big wrapped in Loki’s slender fingers. He tried to jerk his hand back, but Loki kept it in place. The air had changed— Thor wasn’t sure if he liked it or liked it too much.

“You’d have to get these wet,” Loki explained like he was the experienced one.

Without breaking eye contact, he wrapped his lips around Thor’s finger, sucking hard and down to the knuckle. Thor watched with shock as Loki moved his head up and down, batting his lashes and pulling off with a pop and a string of saliva dripping from his lip.

He was already hard by the time Loki dove back down, taking two fingers into his open mouth. Unable to restrain himself, Thor thrust them forward until he gagged.

When Loki pulled back the second time, it was like the wire-tight band between them snapped in two.

With one hand, Thor spun him around, and the other yanked down his breeches until he was bare from the waist down. Thor bent him over the bed, and Loki went willingly, arching his back to present himself, hands already clutching at the pelts beneath him.

He was desperate for him, Thor could see that. He could hear it in the way Loki keened when he eased a spit-slick finger into his opening, panting like a dog while Thor prodded and stretched him open. There was no time to waste, and it wasn’t long after a second finger was added. Loki cried out a bit at that one, and Thor could feel the tight, constricting heat around his fingers. He knew it had to burn, but Loki took it like a champion.

“I wasn’t going to let them fuck you,” Thor grunted, cock pulsing hard against the fabric of his pants. His hips moved on their own accord, already ready to be fucking into that tight heat.

Loki pressed his head into the furs and mumbled something unintelligible. The next sound was a scream when Thor crooked his fingers just right, rubbed on that sweet spot until Loki was frantically backing up onto his hand.

With his free hand, Thor pulled out his own cock, already hard and leaking. It had been a long time since he’d sunk into a body, and the writhing mess before him was begging him to do it. He spat down between them, slicking himself as much as he could with three pumps of his fist.

There was a chance Thor might have been gentle, like a lover, for Loki’s first time. But, that chance had long since passed. Loki didn’t deserve that—he’d made the mission insufferable. All his teasing, all his jeers, he’d almost broken Thor’s nose.

And, Thor was too desperate and too on edge. He hadn’t admitted to himself he wanted this—not until the possibility of someone else fucking Loki crossed his mind.

Thor knew he couldn’t keep him, but that wasn’t going to stop him from ruining him for anyone else.

Loki was tight around him as he pushed in at an antagonizing, slow pace. Loki whimpered a small plea into the furs. It only took a little effort for him to slide home, letting out a harsh moan when he bottomed out.

Loki gripped tight at the fabric beneath him, panting heavy into it. Thor wanted to ask if he was okay, or if he was ready for him to move—but the feeling of Loki clenching around him fogged his mind to a more primitive state where the only thing he wanted was to fuck into that willing and able body.

He pulled back, watched his cock slide out and pushed back in hard, punching a cry from Loki. That action broke all pretense. Thor smoothed his hands over the globes of Loki’s ass, spreading them apart to get a good look at his cock stretching and struggling to fit inside. Loki was so petite in comparison to him, he looked as though he’d be split open.

Thor wanted to test those boundaries.

There wasn’t time for slow and steady, his pace from the beginning as fast and brutal. He gripped Loki’s hips tightly and drove him back to meet his thrusts, the sound of skin smacking against skin echoed through the room, and perhaps the entire tavern.

Loki was mumbling something, unable to catch his breath or words as Thor fucked into him. The only thing that could be heard was a set of moans, and Thor realized one was his own. His release was building in him, curling in his gut like a snake. Loki looked about the same, face turned so that one cheek was pressed into dark fur while he watched Thor with a dazed, glossy look.

Thor reached beneath him, grabbing for Loki’s hard cock, but only found it soft, wet, and sticky. Loki’s hands were still clenched into fists by his head, dry as a bone. Which meant, he’d come on his cock alone, and that was enough to send him over the edge.

Thor shoved in one final time, spilling into him and pumping him full. He dropped his head to the nape of Loki’s neck, resisting the urge to kiss the soft skin he found there. Somehow, he doubted that would be welcome.

But he wanted to. He wanted the intimacy—and that was somehow worse than what they had just done.

\--

Later, after Loki had crawled down his body and took Thor into his mouth, they lay side-by-side. Loki curled into his side, his hair damp with sweat, the dark hair beginning to curl is disarray. They were both naked by that time, skin sticking to skin as Loki traced patterns into Thor’s chest.

“So,” Loki hummed. “How does it feel to fuck a king?”

“You aren’t King yet,” Thor reminded him.

“Yet.”

“Yet,” he repeated.


End file.
